Sol et Insaniam
by Bellalyse Winchester
Summary: or, 'How Equestria was Made'. The story of how the kingdom of Equestria fell from one world and rose as another. Now finished!
1. Chapter 1

**Good evening, bronies. This is my first fanfiction I've ever written about the ponies :3 Reviews are very much appreciated, so that I may improve in the future. **

**Enjoy!**

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><p>There was a young boy playing with a little stick in the courtyard.<p>

Celestia had never much cared for embroidery; she'd barely begun stitching a petal on her sampler. Quickly she turned her gaze from the window to see if her nurse was watching her, and found that the woman was preoccupied with trying to force a bottle on little Luna. The princess set her sampler on the vanity and crept from her seat to the door, finding her escape in the hallway.

The skirt of her dress clutched in both fists, she darted to the nearest staircase and bolted down two steps at a time—she could almost hear her nurse's disapproving croak reprimanding her for her actions 'unbefitting of a young lady of a House'.

There was a window there at the base of the stairs, one she had used many times in her flights from the southern wing of the castle. Tucking her skirts between her legs, she swung herself over the edge, landing steadily on the other side.

"And our fair young princess has escaped the wicked dragon once again!" There was a deep, warm laugh from across the garden, where stood Franklin, the gardener. "Won't you ever wait for a prince, dear?"

"A prince?" Celestia crinkled her nose at the thought before waving and skipping off once again.

She found the strange boy under an old apple tree, waving his stick back and forth in frustration.

"Can I help you?"

The boy jumped, dropping the stick; from its tip, red sparks flew. Celestia stared at it in amazement.

"A magical stick!" she exclaimed. "No wonder you were playing with it so much."

"I wasn't playing!" the boy exclaimed defensively. "And the stick isn't magical. I am."

"You can use magic?" Celestia asked skeptically, kneeling down to lift the stick. She held it out for him, and he looked from her to the stick before taking it again.

"My dad's a practicing magician," he said proudly. "Also he's the duke of Triswitch, but what does that matter? I've been trying to do magic like him, that's the first time it's worked properly."

"Do something else with the stick!" Celestia urged.

The boy furrowed his brow at her; looking into her eyes, however, his expression cleared. He held the stick with the thumb and forefinger of his left hand, and ran the fingers of his right hand over it once. Then, his tongue half stuck-out in concentration, he waved his hand at it. Suddenly, the brown wood was a fresh green stem, and at its tip, a flower began to unfurl. The stick Celestia had handed him became before their eyes a bright crimson rose.

Celestia's eyes seemed to grow as she looked upon the rose. "It's…it's perfect," she breathed. "It's beautiful."

The boy seemed just as amazed as her. He looked up at the princess, then back to his rose; finally, he held it out to her.

"For you."

"_Celestia!_"

Celestia spun about in distress. "Oh, dear," she murmured. She knew she was in for it. "I'm sorry, I have to go!"

"You're princess Celestia?" the boy asked.

"Yes, and you're—" Celestia broke off.

"Charles," the boy answered. "My name's Charles."

"Pleasure to meet you, Charles," she offered a little curtsy before bounding towards the castle.

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><p><strong>Enjoying so far? I'll update as soon as I can! :D<strong>

**XOXO,  
>Bella<br>**


	2. Chapter 2

"Father, where's Triswitch?"

From across the table, King Orion looked in surprise at his elder daughter. "Triswitch?" he asked. "It's…a small stretch of land just inside our northern border, beside Gildiffon. They're peaceful folk, some of them practice magic as a pastime. In fact…I think the duke is staying in the castle. Why?"

"Oh…no reason," Celestia said quickly. "I think I heard one of your advisors mention the name."

At this, the king's eyes grew warm. "You know, Triswich will be yours someday, along with all of the lands of Equestria."

"I understand, father," Celestia looked away, her expression darkening. The king knew well what was on her mind.

"Now, Celestia, you know that I wouldn't make you take lessons if it weren't for your own good."

"Embroidery is useless." She crossed her arms, choosing to scan a drapery on the wall instead of look at her father. "Dancing is dull. Courtly manners are abysmal. If I am princess, I should be worried about the state of our nation, not which finger I lift when I take a sip of tea."

"I'm sorry, Celestia."

"You never had to learn all of this nonsense." Her voice shook with restraint. "You trained as a knight from when you were just a boy. You learned the way to lead from experience out there, not from being stuffed away in a castle."

"You're not a fighter, Celestia," the king said gently, almost playfully. "I remember when you were just a little thing, you never demanded anything of your dear blessed mother, nor of I. You never fussed, not like Luna does. You simply haven't the heart of a fighter."

"I'm not a fighter, but I am a leader," she replied powerfully. "If my country will be strong, _I_ will need to be strong. A princess must be active in the affairs of her nation, and understand the burdens of her duties—not the burdens of needlework.

"The burdens of our duties include doing that which we don't want to, for the sake of our people," the king said. "There are certain…expectations from our people. They would no more want to see you neglect your needlework than see me neglect my courtly jousts."

"You don't enjoy the jousting?"

The kind chuckled, shaking his head. "I'd much rather be reading. But our duty is to our people, and keeping their favor has sacrifices which must be made."

"I still don't understand how embroidery will help me rule," Celestia murmured.

"There is a great queen of yore, from centuries past, who could stitch codes into handkerchiefs during war," the king said thoughtfully. "A great many messages were sent in this fashion to her king who was in battle miles away. From her hard work, the army was saved from an ambush that awaited them, and the war was won."

Celestia narrowed her eyes skeptically.

"Look, my cherub, if it means so much to you I shall tell your nurse that tomorrow, you have the day off."

Later in the evening, Celestia returned to her room and remembered the rose given her by the kind boy. She had placed it in a vase beside her window; upon seeking it, however, she found only the stick as which it had begun.


	3. Chapter 3

The next morning Celestia raced down into the gardens, and following Franklin's pointing finger she found Charles sitting under the same tree as before, waving another stick back and forth to no avail.

He looked up at her when she arrived, a little surprised but definitely happy. He gestured for her to sit beside him, and, waving the wand again, sent a shower of little sparkles down upon her. She looked from the ground to her dress tentatively before grabbing her skirts and adjusting them so that as she sat, they touched as little ground as possible. Charles continued to watch her with amused eyes as she lowered herself down until she finally caught him, and he looked away quickly.

"What?" she asked.

"You're strange," he commented simply. "I've never met anyone as strange as you."

"You ought to talk," Celestia replied indignantly.

"It's not bad to be strange!" the boy protested. "It's a very good thing. It means you're not like other people."

Celestia thought on that a moment. "The stick turned back," she said.

"What?"

"The stick. The one that you made into a rose, it's turned back into a stick again."

"I can fix it!" Charles said quickly.

"No, that's all right," Celestia replied. "I don't mind."

Suddenly, a thought crossed her mind, and she rose to her feet quickly, barely seeming to remember the dirt which rose up as her skirts swept across the ground.

"Follow me!" she exclaimed, taking Charles's hand in her own. They raced across the courtyard, and then through a low window in the nearest wall they climbed out into the completely open air, where the wind was steady across the grass and as far as the eye could see there were green fields and cottony clouds.

At first Charles thought they were stopping there; Celestia tugged at his hand, however, and they continued running until they reached a wooden fence.

"Come on, we can go in." Celestia climbed easily over the fence and Charles followed, stumbling slightly. "Twilight? Applejack?"

At first there was silence. Soon, however, the breeze rushing through the grass was accompanied by the sounds of gentle hoofbeats.

From out in the pasture, several ponies were making an approach. The first to arrive was a cloudy gray mare which lapped eagerly at Celestia's fingers. Next was a mare of such a light red it was almost pink. Another was pure white, another black with white dapples along its back, and yet another golden-dappled. The final one to approach was a yellow mare, which pawed at the ground shyly before slowly lowering its head and staying put.

"Rainbow! Rainbow, Pinkie, Rarity, Twilight, Applejack, and Fluttershy—oh, get over here, Fluttershy—everybody, meet Charles! Charles, these are Franklin's mares."

"Hello," Charles said softly. "They're your pets?"

"They're my _friends_," Celestia insisted. "They're the only friends I had before I met you." She watched Charles' eyes, testing his response. He expressed none visibly, and Celestia narrowed her eyes. "How many friends have you had?"

"Counting you?" Charles asked. One of the ponies, the meek yellow mare called Fluttershy, approached him, and he tentatively stroked her mane. "One."

Celestia felt her heart drop. "Oh," she murmured; it was no wonder he didn't remark upon her friendship with the ponies, if he had never had a friend before.

"My dad doesn't let me out much," Charles went on. "Not to play with other kids. The kids I do see are all so boring. I don't see why we need to be so dull, just because we're noble."

"My father thinks I need to study embroidery." Celestia rolled her eyes. "He thinks I need to be 'courtly and proper'. It's all ridiculous."

"We ought to run away," Charles murmured absently. "What fun is there in being royal when we can't do what we want?"

Celestia took his hand, smiling at him. "Maybe we will," she replied.

"I promise we will," Charles said finally.

##

The very next day, Charles did leave. Rather than leave by his side, however, Celestia watched from her window as the duke took his son from the castle. He would fade, but not disappear, from her memories over the next eight years.


	4. Chapter 4

"Oh, my dear child, you look breathtaking—just stop screwing up your face!"

Celestia frowned; she had rolled her eyes indignantly at the nurse's obsequious comment, and it was such a crime for a princess to be anything less than elegant—eye-rolling was not considered elegant.

"This is the scratchiest thing I've ever worn in my life," Celestia scowled.

"Smile!" the nurse ordered.

Celestia rolled her eyes once again, earning a swift stroke across her fingers. She winced, and looked down to see Luna playing idly with the hem of her dress. The nurse noticed as well, and there was a branding for Luna's fingers.

"I can't wait until I'm a debu—debootant."

"It's 'debutante,'" the nurse corrected.

"You absolutely should be able to wait," Celestia said. "It's so boring. What does it mean exactly; now, I'm able to lose my privileges to my kingdom?"

"It simply means that now, you will be able to find a suitable man who can lead our country, wed him, and live easily the rest of your life." The nurse pricked her with a pin. "You act as if you're going to the gallows."

"Maybe that's how I feel," Celestia murmured.

She was led into the foyer by the hand of the stingy nurse, her train carried by a silent, dutiful Luna. Her father met her there and took her in a warm embrace before taking her hand and leading her into the grand ballroom.

An ocean of people parted at their entrance, which was flanked on either side by tall, white-clothed guards. Celestia supposed the pomp and circumstance of an orchestra, bodyguards, and full buffet-style banquet were supposed to make her feel important; it contrarily made her feel empty and insecure. There was no reason for the expense; all of it would be put to better use for the good of the kingdom. Instead, it was splurged on a single party.

The people watched her with eyes that she knew were judging her every move. She had never walked so carefully in her life, heel-toe, heel-toe. A single misstep could dishonor her father and the kingdom.

They reached the front of the ballroom, standing just before the orchestra, and turned about. Celestia could barely breathe in her dress. Her father raised his hands, addressing the people with the mystical air of both love and authority that Celestia could not imagine herself ever mastering.

"Noblemen and women of Equestria," he boomed, "From Manville just beside this castle to Philadelphia along the Eastern border, I bid you welcome, and happy tidings for your time in my castle. I understand that this is no night for speeches, but I think it cannot hurt to offer a _small_ statement of welcome."

There was a gentle laugh among the people. They adored Celestia's father; he was warm and open, but at the same time private and intimidating, just as a king ought to be.

"I would first like to thank my good friend, Duke Gordon of Gildiffon, without whom this celebration would be only half of what it is."

There was a tentative applause for the duke; he was not the most popular of the royals, nor of the most popular duchy; he was, however, King Orion's oldest friend, as well as a rich, powerful ally.

"More importantly, of course, I must express my infinite pride in who I can only describe as a beautiful, intelligent, competent young woman—my daughter."

The applause at this was a little more heartfelt. Celestia felt the blood rise in her cheeks; she deserved none of those praises. Her lifetime had been spent practicing the idle arts of royalty—that and, of course, rebelling at every opportunity.

"I assume you're all tired of hearing me talk by now," King Orion said, "And shame on you, I'm your king. You should bow at my voice!" A few people hurriedly bent their knees, but the majority laughed warmly with the king. "So, now, on with you all! Let's make this celebration one to remember!"

The crowd began at once to turn and laugh, some dancing in time to the fextive music the orchestra provided, others gossiping in large groups about the food tables.

"Off, my cherub." Celestia looked up at her father, who offered her a fond smile. "Go on. Off! Have fun!"

Celestia stepped tentatively into the crowd. She hadn't taken three steps before there was a firm hand on her shoulder.

"I'll have this first dance," said a deep, gentle voice into her ear. She turned to see a tall man looking down at her, taking her waist and pushing a few fingers through her hair. His hair was blond and his shoulders broad. In confusion Celestia fell into step with him, struggling to think of who he could be.

"My name is Gavin. My father is Duke of Gildiffon." At once Celestia recognized him, and broke off dancing for a moment; he pulled her waist to him, however, and she resumed the dance warily. "Now, Celestia, all I want is a little dance."

"You're the first knight ever discharged from the Gildiffon brotherhood," Celestia said curtly.

"That was cleared up thanks to my father," Gavin countered.

"A bit of money cleaning up a scoundrel's personality?" Celestia said skeptically. "I've never heard such a case."

"My family is _very_ affluent," he replied. "We can buy the smiles on our subjects' faces."

"On _my_ subjects' faces," Celestia said darkly. "You're just a duchy-you report to the kingdom as does any other."

Gavin was silent for a moment before shrugging. "For now," he murmured.

"I sense a hidden motive in your words," Celestia said patronizingly.

"I can assure you I have none of the sort," Gavin replied. "I merely meant to say that our families would do well united as one. With the house of Gildiffon ruling over Equestria—"

"Excuse me, might I cut in?"

Celestia had been about to shout at Gavin; she was grateful that something was there to both distract her and provide an excuse to escape the unwanted suitor. Quickly she tore herself from Gavin's grasp; the man of Gildiffon, however, drew a rod from his belt and held the interloper back.

"I'm sorry, Duke," Gavin said dryly. "Didn't recognize you. At first I thought you were a serving-boy, and I very nearly struck you for your insolence."

"You just stay back, Gavin," the new man said; Celestia heard his voice tremble. He had short, dark hair and an impossible familiarity in his brown eyes. "She doesn't want to dance with you."

"A relatively new duke, you are, I believe," Gavin said threateningly.

"My father passed of poisoning," the new man said sharply. "Very soon after yourself and your father left my home. The same has been happening all across the country; it's a wonder half the nobles here aren't children."

"I may have to return to your duchy yet," Gavin said, his tongue slippery. "Give baby a taste of Daddy's wine."

With that he ducked off into the crowd, and Celestia turned to her savior.

"I—thank you," she stammered. "I could've handled it myself."

"I know you could've, Celestia," he replied, reaching into his pocket. Celestia's eyes followed his hand, and from deep in his coat he pulled a small stick. With a flourish he had suddenly a rose in his fingers.

"Charles," Celestia said softly.


	5. Chapter 5

Charles put a hand upon Celestia's shoulder tentatively. She took the rose, tucking it into the neck of her dress. Then slowly she brought her hands to his shoulders and looked at him in disbelief.

"Charles," she repeated softly. "That's really you?"

"Only if that's really you, princess," he laughed gently, taking a step to lead their dance. "It's been…"

"Eight years," Celestia finished. "That's a rather long while."

"Not so long," Charles replied, a smile in his eyes. "How have you been?"

"Not so bad," Celestia answered, finding no words to expound upon.

"I wish I could say the same," Charles answered. "My father…passed away two months ago."

"Passed away?" Celestia asked observantly. "I should say Gavin made it plenty obvious just what took him."

"It's been hard," Charles said. "Never trust a man from Gildiffon, Celestia…they are a rich people, but haven't an ounce of sympathy among them."

Celestia barely heard his words. "I'm sorry," she said.

"Don't be," he replied. "I've grieved my time."

"Still," Celestia insisted; she paused dancing for a moment to look into his eyes. "I care, Charles."

He avoided her gaze for a few moments; the silence was deafening. "I'll be here very often, for a while," he said finally. "I have some business here with your father. It won't take up too much of my time here—I should like you to show me about, for a day?"

"I'd love to," Celestia answered. "Maybe—I'm just saying maybe—you could show me some magic?"

"It'd be an honor," he replied, bowing his head. "Celestia, I—" As he began the song ended, and another suitor tapped at his shoulder. "Yes, of course. Celestia, it has already been an honor." He took a step back, offered a courteous bow, and allowed the new man to take his place.


	6. Chapter 6

Charles was true to his words; from her bedroom window Celestia saw him standing beneath the old tree in the courtyard, and she rushed out past Luna working intently on a beautiful embroidery sampler.

"Charles!" she exclaimed as she stepped through the door at the base of the spiral tower. She gave a quick wave to Franklin, who offered only a friendly nod in return. Most of her attentions, however, were focused upon the boy—the boy-no-more man standing at the tree, plucking a bright red apple from its branches.

"Princess," he replied, offering a little bow. "I suppose you've come to show me about the castle?"

"In exchange for a magic lesson," Celestia put in quickly.

"Of course," he replied. "I don't forget my promises."

Celestia took his hand and guided him through the castle, to each cupboard and hall, and across the grounds. He had curiosity for many of the tapestries and commemorated statues, but after they had toured every corner and crevice of the main grounds, he was left with a single question.

"What about the ponies?" he asked. Celestia's eyes darkened, and she looked away ruefully.

"They passed," she said. "They were old. Franklin's had them since before I was born. It was last year that Rainbow died; she was the last."

"I'm sorry." The sadness in Charles's eyes couldn't have been more profound. "I—I know that they meant the world to you."

"They did." Celestia found herself nodding, and quickly rubbed at the tears welling in her eyes. "But no matter. Magic! You _must_ teach me some of it!"

"Of course," he replied. "As long as you're certain you're ready?"

"I am," she affirmed.

"Well, then," Charles said, "if you're ready."

##

Celestia couldn't remember working harder in her life.

"Concentrate!" Charles said, firm but considerate. "Put your entire self into this plant."

She was trying to make a flower bloom. It was a simple enough task, according to Charles; she had another opinion entirely.

"This is impossible," she complained. "How am I supposed to concentrate so hard? I've never concentrated this hard in my life, and it's still not working."

"You need to think of the one thing most important to you," he said. "It takes a lot of practice and a lot of patience."

"But I want to be able to do this _now!_" she muttered stubbornly. "It's not doing anything; it's just sitting there, mocking me."

"It's a flower. It can't mock you." Charles seemed amused, while Celestia was approaching a rage.

"You make it look so easy," she complained.

"I have good concentration," he replied.

"What is it you think about?" she asked.

"Now, there," he said gently. "It's a secret. If I told you that, how could it be a secret anymore?"

"So, we're not allowed to tell?" Celestia asked. "How will I know what to think about?"

"Whatever occupies your mind," he answered. He turned and left her there, humming a little tune. She crossed her arms, staring at the plant in exasperation. As the petals began to unfurl, she felt her heart skip a beat.

"Charles! Wait!"


	7. Chapter 7

Charles did come to stay more and more often for the next few years; less and less of his time was spent on matters of diplomacy, however. More often he could be found in the company of the princess, offering her both instruction and friendship. The more they shared one another's company, the closer they grew, until scarcely a waking moment passed which saw them apart.

Where Charles was the brightest light of adventure in Celestia's life, she was the jewel of his; he taught her and was, though she knew not if he was aware, the spark within her which ignited her inner magic. When he returned from his brief, infrequent journeys to his homeland in Triswitch, Charles would always have things for her which sparked her imagination, including books full of magic and fantasy, things such as griffons and dragons, wicked nightmares and cockatrices. Once the nurse discovered one of her storybooks and burned it.

"Princesses have no business reading of knights and quests," she reprimanded. "It is the duty of a princess to be happy and to keep her people happy, not to trouble herself with this nonsense."

King Orion urged her daughter to listen to the nurse. Only Luna seemed to accept Celestia for who she was…but no one seemed to consider Luna, her sister included. The world was too busy to remember that she even existed; Duke Gordon of Gildiffon took most of the king's time in negotiations, and by the end of it the man was nearly too exhausted to remember that he was a father.

Charles entered Celestia's study one afternoon, and found her standing at a cabinet, fingering a small stick.

"What's that?" he asked.

"The first rose you ever gave me," she answered. "On the first day we ever met."

"I remember now," he said, nodding. "How old were we—eight?"

"About that, I suppose so," Celestia replied. "You made me a promise that day, do you remember it?"

"I promised," Charles began slowly, "that we would run away together."

"I'd never be brave enough to go alone." Celestia's voice was small and conspiratorial. "You can't really say that all of this—politics, government and nonsense—you can't say that it's better for us here than somewhere far away."

"No, I can't," Charles admitted. "I've had the same thoughts; I know you aren't happy here. I only want to leave if you're certain, though."

"I've thought about it for a long time," Celestia said. "There's no place for me here. They don't want me here as long as I have a glimpse through you of the world outside. I need to get out."

Charles couldn't argue with her if he had wanted to.

They waited for the darkness to fall before their plan was enacted. Celestia took only the clothes on her back, creeping as silently as she could through the halls to her father's room. She wanted only to give him a surreptitious goodbye; that is to say, tell him she loved him in fewer words. No one, not even he, could know that she was leaving until she was gone.

As she heard the sound of footsteps, however, she stopped, hiding herself as best she could behind a white pillar in the hall. Peeking curiously along the side, she saw Duke Gordon crossing the room with a bottle of wine. She followed him with her eyes, all the way across the hall and into her father's study. Her heart dropped; she had no desire to ever be in the presence of Gordon.

"I'm sorry, Daddy," she murmured, retracing her steps to the window under her tower. She climbed through it, remembering doing so once before, long ago.

Celestia met Charles in the courtyard, and he led her to the stables, where he untethered a gelding and helped her onto its back. He untethered it before climbing in front of the princess and taking up the reins. With a flick of his wrist the horse began to walk forward; a gentle kick to the flank and it broke into a canter.

The royal grounds gave way to open fields, which ran on for miles. As the sun mounted the horizon, kissing each individual blade of grass with its warmth, apprehension rose within Celestia. They were still near the castle, and if anyone glanced out in their direction, they could be seen. She clutched Charles's waist the tiniest bit closer, and he felt her fear. Kicking the horse's flank again, a bit more urgently, he coaxed it to its fastest.

"Cast a spell," Celestia whispered into his ear. "Your magic is better than mine. Hide us from their view."

"I could only hide one of us," he said. "Even if you could hide yourself, the horse would give us away. We just have to move quickly; the forest is only a mile on. We can stop when we reach there."

Celestia trusted his judgment; she had always trusted him. They moved as quickly as possible, inciting what speed they could from the horse as they went. Charles didn't disappoint; they came upon the forest quickly enough.

As they stood in the brambles, however, Celestia saw gold-and-purple banners on the horizon. Approaching from the castle was a company of three; a soldier, Franklin, and the nurse. Celestia grabbed Charles's sleeve and he gasped, attempting to climb onto his horse before they arrived. Celestia knew it was too late, however, as the group approached.

She expected to see anger or disappointment in their faces; instead, she saw grief and despair. Something was very wrong.

"Celestia!" the nurse cried, running forward and taking the young woman in her arms.

"What's wrong?" she asked.

"Your father—" Words failed her and she dissolved into sobs; Celestia had to look to Franklin for the answer, which he seemed reluctant to offer.

"Your father has been murdered," he said, his voice cracking on his words.


	8. Chapter 8

Duke Gordon of Gildiffon was worse than unsavory; he was a traitor and a murderer. He had taken a bottle of poison with him to the king's study; if not for the alert from his son Gavin, he would've escaped without notice. Gavin's warning came too late to stop Gordon but in time to capture him on his escape.

Franklin had seen Celestia and Charles on their flight from the castle. The moment he learned of the king's death, he divulged the news of their escape.

Celestia demanded to be alone the instant they reached the castle. She stormed into her bedroom, where Luna was already on her own bed, her face pressed into a pillow as she screamed in despair. Celestia rushed to her sister's side, and they took one another in their arms, sobbing with deep gasps and long groans of agony.

For Celestia, it was more than the grief at the loss of her beloved father. Her heart was black with guilt; she could've stopped Gordon that night, before the poison even touched her father's lips. Instead, she'd been overcome by the selfish desire for freedom. She couldn't abandon her people as she abandoned her father.

It was several days before the sisters elected to leave their room; by then the king was in his tomb and the nation was mourning as a whole his loss.

Celestia watched her sister grow weaker by the day; while her health was for all intents and purposes fine, she was changed. Her emotions had become volatile and her manners unpredictable; she would attend dinner with her hair untidy and, on one occasion, in her nightgown. Eventually she stopped coming to dinner at all. Celestia was woken often throughout the night, finding Luna sitting on the window ledge, staring out at the night with the moon shining in her eyes.

Celestia, on the other hand, felt herself growing more and more grounded. She slowly began to understand her place as ruler—for indeed, that was what she was to become. If she had left, the kingdom would by will of the king fall into the hands of Gordon of Gildffon—and in his absence, Gavin. Celestia had little doubt that Gavin was part of his father's plot against the king; in the interests of preserving order, however, there was little she could do. Calling out Gavin without a shred of evidence was hardly proper, and she'd likely get nothing but doubt from her peers.

It was a long time before she even thought about Charles again, but he thought about her. After three months catching only fleeting, noncommittal glances from her, he arranged a dinner with her; she arrived on the hour in his room, where he'd prepared a small meal for the two of them. She seemed at once to relax when they were alone, but it wasn't true relaxation; she seemed to restrain herself from reaching too much ease.

"Charles," she said as greeting.

"I'm glad you came," he said, pulling a chair for her, which she took.

"This is preferable to the counselor's dinner that was planned for me earlier—that comparison, however, doesn't do my pleasure justice." She smiled. "I have missed you."

"I fear you may rethink your pleasure when you see what I've prepared." Charles crossed the room to a platter, which he carried to the table and placed before Celestia. There was a small salad there, with onions, tomatoes, and olives piled conservatively on a pile of lettuce, as well as a little slice of bread on the side.

"You magicked this?" Celestia inquired, taking a fork and stabbing at a lettuce leaf.

"You doubt my culinary talents so?" Charles asked playfully, before shrugging. "Yeah…I magicked it. But it's still food, just prepared with a little parlor trick."

"It's more than a trick, Charles," Celestia said thoughtfully as she began to eat. Charles took a plate for himself and sat across from her. "It's the most inexplicable thing in the world. I think sometimes that's where the future is…in magic."

"Really?" Charles raised his eyebrows interestedly. "Do tell…"

"My father was killed because of a member of his closest alliances who wished to usurp his rule." She closed her eyes, feeling emotion rise in her voice, before she continued. "In short, dissent brought him down. With magic…I think dissent may not be an issue."

As her words drew meaning within Charles's heart, he drew a sharp breath, quickly changing the subject.

"You look well."

"Thank you," she replied diplomatically. "You, too."

There was a brief silence during which the pair of them picked at their salads. After a few minutes Celestia complemented Charles on the salad, and he thanked her; their eyes met, and awkwardly they laughed.

"I've heard you've elected to refuse to ascend to the throne as a queen," Charles said. "Is there any truth among these rumors?"

"Complete truth," Celestia replied. "Is there something wrong with that? I've only ever been a princess. Why shouldn't I remain as such as I rule?"

"I see no reason," Charles replied, careful to keep her in good spirits. "And I suppose…I mean…this is difficult."

"Speak freely," Celestia replied kindly. "You're my oldest friend; you haven't anything to fear from me."

"That's just it," Charles said. "You are my oldest friend, Celestia. We're far more than friends, I think. We've shared dreams and hopes the past few years, and just three months ago…you were happy enough to run away with me." Here he broke off, collecting himself before he went on. "We've been there for one another, and I'd like to say…if there comes a time that you feel you need a prince—well, I should be happy to take that task on."

Celestia stared at him, taken completely aback. "Charles, are you—are you asking me to _marry_ you?"

"Yes," Charles replied.


	9. Chapter 9

Celestia stared at him for a long moment before sputtering into a laugh.

"Have I missed a joke?" Charles asked, his expression darkening.

"But—we'd have to get _married!_" Celestia exclaimed in disbelief.

"That was the object of asking you to marry me, yes," Charles replied.

"But—_married!_" Celestia found no end of humor in this idea. "That's—well, it's just daft! You're my oldest friend, we've known each other for years!"

"And I've loved you for every one of those years," Charles said. "Ever since I met you, Celestia. I'd never had a friend before you, and I've never had another so true. You're the only person who's ever bothered to care about me outside of my father. You're the only person I've ever cared about so much. I've done everything for you. Every thought to pass through my heart has come with concerns of how you would feel. You are the one I imagine when I create magic, Celestia, with every ounce of my being."

"Charles, you're not supposed to say…" Celestia murmured. Her heart racing, she pushed her plate forward and her chair back; the look in Charles's eyes made her worry for both him and herself.

"Because I couldn't tell you how I felt," the man replied coarsely; there was redness rising in his cheeks. "You're my best friend…but I thought now, when we may need one another most, you would understand and perhaps feel the same as I."

"You led me from my father when he needed _me!_" Celestia exclaimed scornfully; as she rose to defend herself, she couldn't keep from moving to the offensive. "I saw Gordon that night, skulking in the hall with his poison; I could've saved him!"

"You wanted to leave!" Charles shot back. "I'd have followed you to the ends of the Earth if you had asked."

"I don't love you, Charles!" Celestia cried. "Not in that way. I doubt I'll ever love someone in that way."

"I've thought of no one but you in my lifetime," Charles murmured. He seemed to have calmed down, but there was live fire still in his eyes.

"I'm sorry," Celestia said; judging it was safe enough to leave, she stepped back and turned towards the door.

"This is how you leave me, then?" Charles asked. Celestia chose not to answer, instead creeping away into the hallway; hopefully time would calm Charles's affections and return him to his senses.


	10. Chapter 10

Celestia spent the night alone in her room, (except of Luna, of course, who was sitting on the windowsill with a paintbrush and a canvas smeared with shades of blue; Luna, however, was hardly company) pondering Charles's actions. Had he truly meant what he'd said? She knew no force which would cause his prevarication, but then again was there ever a just cause for dishonesty? She wondered if this was something magic could resolve; perhaps a spell could numb the emotions of a man who'd become distraught in his obsession.

In his own room, Charles knew better. He lay on his bed, watching his hot breath condense in the air and dissipate; gone, just like his dreams. He knew magic couldn't alter the fickle affections of the heart. Magic had ability only on the physical realm; that was where he made his mark in the world, and was very probably why he had such little control over his anger.

He knew he couldn't change her heart. She didn't love him…but she had the entire world against her. She had to run an entire kingdom. She already had so much on her plate—affairs of the heart couldn't be essential to her right now. The king had left her with a great debt to Gildiffon; even under the circumstances of his death, the duchy wouldn't rest without their debts repaid. She couldn't waste her time with a union to the duke of one of the poorest duchies in the kingdom…The world simply wanted them apart.

But what if he changed the world?

Celestia was torn from her thoughts by a knock at her door. Luna barely batted an eyelash; Celestia rose to her feet, crossing the room to allow in Charles.

She gasped when she saw him. He was disheveled and trembling from head to toe; his clothes were tattered and his eyes wild.

"Chaos," was all he said.

Luna looked up as he spoke; she dropped her paintbrush onto the floor and approached the door.

"Luna! That'll stain," Celestia scolded; she was terrified, but couldn't still her heart without preserving order.

"It doesn't matter," Luna said, her voice distant. "The stars have fallen."

Celestia was about to brush her off, but furrowed her brow in confusion. "What?" she asked.

"I'm doing some—ah—redecorating," Charles said, his voice strained. Celestia bolted to the window. "Chaos—that simply doesn't sound quite right. Madness, insanity…"

A scream pierced the air as Celestia saw the world outside of the castle; Charles began to hum a rueful melody.

The night was cloudless and starless. The unbroken blackness was becoming vaster and darker as the ground hundreds of miles away began to crumble and fall; mountains collapsed, trees splintered, and rivers ran dry before her eyes.

"What are you doing?" She spun around to see Charles approaching her, with each step looking darker and crazier. The shadows playing across his face seemed to jump and jut out at odd, inhuman angles. He stopped first at her desk, snatching up a stick from the surface and holding it out to her face. She stared with wide eyes as he took it in both hands and snapped it in half; it shattered like glass, and he threw the shards at her feet. She jumped backwards, catching herself on the windowsill.

"Don't fall, Celestia," Charles chided. "You don't want to miss this show. Chaos…chaos…Discord?" His lips curled back into a crooked grin. "_Discord…_yes, that sounds right." There was a roar of thunder and the man threw his head back, laughing. "Celestia, this is where it all begins! The ashes of this world will create our paradise, and it will be _glorious!_ Never again will the ruffians of Gildiffon threaten you, nor will you ever be less than the most affluent princess in the universe."

The entire castle was quaking. Cracks in the floor swelled and spat stone into the air; pieces of stone began to crash down from the ceiling. Celestia grabbed Luna about the waist before throwing her hands over both of them; Luna pushed her away, rolling her eyes.

"He's not about to let _you_ die," she said plainly.

"Charles, please—"

"_DISCORD!_" Celestia's eyes grew wide with terror. Charles—no; Discord, whoever he was—cracked his neck from side to side. His body seemed to convulse, bones moving and jutting out at odd angles to his body. It was as if he was growing too large for his skin; then his body became more massive, all at once. He became a flash of fur, feathers, and scales that she could only briefly glance at before he lunged through the window, vanishing in an eruption of shattered glass.

Luna took Celestia's hand in hers; together they quitted their room, bounding down the winding spiral staircase and leaping out the open window at the base of the tower. There the air was filled with smoke; Celestia watched in horror as the tree she and Charles had spent so many hours under erupted in flames. Its branches writhed and withered, smoke gushing from the trunk as blood from a wound. She saw soaring above it the monster Charles had become.

His eyes were bulging and yellow, and perhaps the only thing symmetrical of his form. Two horns rested on his equine head, one antler and one spiral. His body was covered in knotted brown fur, but for a scaled arm, leg, and tail. He had two sets of claws—one avian, the other of a lion. From his back two wings had sprung, one as a bat's and the other as a bird's. He had one long tooth, which a forked tongue lapped at every now and again.

"_Discord!_" he shrieked in an inhuman voice. "This is where it all begins!"

"His magic's out of control," Luna said softly.

"This can't be him," Celestia said, her voice low. "He isn't like this."

"No one is," Luna replied. "Not until you take away their life."

The ground lurched to the side; Celestia's eyes turned skyward and she saw two massive spheres falling from the sky. One was gray and speckled; the other was a fiery yellow-gold.

"Oh my God," Celestia whispered.


	11. Chapter 11

"Isn't it marvelous?" Discord cackled. "Chaos, madness and insanity as far as the eye can see! What need have you for order now, Celestia? Magic can bring something much better…freedom!"

"You're going to kill _everyone_," Celestia screamed. "You, me, Luna—everyone!"

Discord laughed again, his voice shrill. Celestia watched the orbs in the sky grow ever closer, her heart racing—then, she looked down at Luna, taking her sister's hand.

"Don't let go," Luna whispered.

"I promise," Celestia answered.

The sisters closed their eyes. The world around them grew ever darker and ever more silent, until the only sound remaining was the whirling wind and the cold laugh of the monster. They could almost feel the sun and moon fall closer, closer…

Celestia didn't realize what was happening, even as it happened. All she felt was fear of the burning sun falling to Earth and fear for her sister. Through her eyelids she could suddenly see a bright light; she opened her eyes and felt the world around her change. She was no longer holding Luna's hand; she wasn't even certain she _had_ hands anymore. She looked skyward, and saw the sun and moon growing ever more distant; they seemed to be surrounded by pale blue hazes which carried them away, back among the stars.

She turned to her sister; it was then that her malaise took shape. She realized suddenly that Discord had changed more than his own form—but there was no time to become lost and confused.

"Luna!" she cried out; her sister was far more ready to accept her new form. The younger heaved her azure wings, forcing herself skyward. There was a cloud of blue light about the horn on her forehead; Celestia assumed that was the magic raising the orbs in the sky. Looking up, she saw the same light on her own horn.

Fear pressed down by urgency, Celestia forced the air beneath her wings and rose skyward. The sun was far enough away by now; she concentrated her efforts on Discord.

"Discord," she called. The monster turned to face her, his mouth crooked into a smile.

"My princess, Celestia," he said, his voice sticky as honey. "Do you like this new world? I created it for you alone."

Celestia had never known anything as surely as she knew then how to defeat the behemoth Discord. With a glance at Luna, who watched the exchange cautiously, she glided gently towards Discord. Her mane glittered in the near-darkness, and Discord was entranced, watching her approach with for the first time a calm disposition.

"It's anger that gives you your power," she said softly. The universe seemed to spin in slow-motion, and it very possibly _did_. Celestia stretched her neck, bringing her muzzle to brush against the beast's. It was at that moment he froze, and in that moment Celestia spun about, returning to her sister's side. Obeying only instinct, they bowed their heads. Celestia's heart filled with everything she had ever loved, and the magic took control of the rest. White light poured from her horn, and blue from Luna's. Discord screamed.

Charles screamed.

Celestia felt tears rise in her eyes.

The world faded into white.


	12. Chapter 12

Celestia and Luna rebuilt the world, as best they could. It was never the same, of course. No one in Equestria but Celestia could seem to remember a time before they were ponies. Some, Celestia discovered, were unicorns and had an aptitude for magic, just as she did.

She had achieved order; Equestria in this new world was passive and equal for all of its subjects. It only cost her father's life and her best friend's sanity.

Discord was trapped. The princesses' magic had created a prison of stone which would hold him…forever, they hoped. Celestia didn't know if Charles was still in there, somewhere beneath the monster.

The raising of the sun and moon became more than the first acts of the young princesses of Equestria. Every morning Celestia would look to the east and summon the sun from beneath the horizon; every evening Luna would raise the moon. It seemed that even among magicians, they had unmatchable abilities; Celestia wasn't certain that was a good thing.

She didn't know if everything would be okay; she rather doubted it. She knew, however, that no matter the strife, her sister was there with her. Together, they could take care of their kingdom.

Together, they were ready.


End file.
